


When You Can't Sleep at Night

by botanistlester (Skeletonflowers)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Art, Artists, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Insomnia, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletonflowers/pseuds/botanistlester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan has insomnia and his mum takes him for drives whenever he can’t sleep. One day, she takes him to a cafe where he meets a blue-eyed man with charcoal stains on his arms who gives him a reason to keep coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Can't Sleep at Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally made for the phanfic exchange on tumblr for user ctrlphan (: I waited a bit to upload it so I could post when I haven't in a while but I just couldn't resist and decided to post today! Enjoy!

Insomnia (n) - The perception or complaint of inadequate or poor-quality sleep due to a number of factors, such as difficulty falling asleep, waking up frequently during the night with difficulty returning to sleep, waking up too early in the morning, or unrefreshing sleep.

-

Dan was a creature of the night. A person who walks through the day like a zombie, but who can barely even close his eyes when the moon is shining above. It was the same every night - Dan would tiredly crash onto his bed, waiting for the peacefulness of sleep to overtake him, but knowing it wouldn’t. His eyes would hurt, stinging to the point of tears, and his head would spin, wondering if there was even such a thing as sleep.

There were a few moments, however, when sleep would finally overtake his body. He would become lost in a mindless wander between darkness and light, before he’d awake again, and realize he had only been sleeping for a few hours. On days like those, he couldn’t tell if he felt refreshed, or if he was even more tired than before.

His mum was always helpful during these nights, understanding when he would wake her up in the middle of the night to tired eyes and a begging face. She was Dan’s best friend in all honesty, and he was beyond lucky that she was a stay at home mother who didn’t have anywhere to be in the morning. She could take care of him with open arms and a cup of steamed milk, with a hint of vanilla essence tinging the liquid froth.

He let out a long sigh, pursing his lips and squinting in the darkness until he saw his alarm clock, the red numbers burning into his brain. He grimaced when he realized it was half four, tearing his eyes away from the burning crimson to instead focus on the small sliver of light poking out from his window shades. It was no doubt from the moon; nothing else would be able to illuminate the night sky with such soft silver.

It was then that he found himself sitting up in bed, his feet making small shuffling sounds as they took him over to the window, that this hand reached out to pull the blinds up. He was greeted with a kiss by the night sky, small pinpricks of light shattering the darkness. Dan closed his eyes and chuckled, thinking about a different world where he was a shining star in the black abyss and the moon was his mum.

“My mum looks so pretty tonight,” he snickered to himself before rolling his eyes at his mere childishness. Speaking of his mother, he decided it was probably time to go get her. Even if he was eighteen, he still relied heavily on her. Dan was actually just a big baby, in all honesty.

The floorboards creaked under his socked feet, making him cringe each time. He prayed he wouldn’t wake his father up, thanking the lord that his dad was a pretty heavy sleeper. With a gentle whisper of the door brushing against the carpet, Dan opened the door to his parent’s room. He didn’t have to say anything as he nudged his mum’s shoulder. When her eyes cracked open, she gave him a light smile and immediately got out of bed, following him out of her room until they were able to talk at their normal level without the risk of waking his father up.

“Trouble sleeping again?” Dan’s mother asked quietly. She shuffled around the kitchen, grabbing Dan’s favourite mug (a white one with a picture of a cat on it, ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ scrawled on the cup in brazen black). He watched as she poured a teaspoon of vanilla in the mug before adding the milk and popping it in the microwave.

Dan hummed his agreement, voice scratchy from disuse. He wondered what his mother was thinking, whether she was annoyed that her son was barely able to stay asleep for the night, or whether she was getting tired of this nightly routine. He took the mug from her gratefully, sipping at the drink with groggy concentration. It was a burst of warmth and flavour, the milk sweet on his tongue with just the right amount of vanilla to soothe his sweet tooth.

He looked up through his eyelashes to find his mum staring at him with a contemplative expression. When he caught her gazing, her lips rose into a smile. He couldn’t help but note how tired she looked, hair graying and heavy bags under her eyes. Guilt filled his chest, choking him with a disgusting taste in his throat, before she opened her mouth to speak. “I have an idea,” she commented. After a pause to gauge his reaction (which was close to nothing else but confusion), she went on, “Let’s go for a drive. Obviously sitting around isn’t doing anything for you. There’s a twenty-four hour cafe down the street that has amazing pastries. Why don’t we try it out?”

Dan snickered and sipped once more at his heated drink. “A cafe? Wouldn’t coffee just keep me up?”

“Not if you avoid the caffeine and go straight for the pastries.”

Glancing down at the mug wrapped between his palms, Dan licked his lips before biting down, messing with a piece of dead skin that was surely going to tear off if he kept up the action. He weighed his options: normally, he would wake his mum up for a cup of hot milk before laying in bed to stare at the ceiling for another two hours. On nights like those, his eyes were the same consistency as sandpaper, feet rubbing together slightly like a calming lullaby. He was dead, a human without a soul, an empty shell walking the streets who couldn’t even handle going to university because it had gotten so bad.

And now there was another option: he could go on a night drive with his mum, blasting music and singing at the top of their lungs until they were a giggling mess of scratchy throats and drooping eyes. Until they came to the cafe, of course, where they would eat so many carbs that Dan would surely regret it in the morning.

He ended up choosing the latter.

They didn’t care how ridiculous they looked, shouting the lyrics to Lady Gaga songs into the dead of the night. Dan was one of the lucky ones who had a mother that was also his best friend, not judging him for anything and even joining in on making a complete fool of themselves. There were giggles and snorting and his mum even started to dance around, shimmying in her seat like she was trying to imitate Beyoncé.

Finally, they stopped in front of a small building, orange letters illuminating the front of the store reading, ‘The Cup’ with a small mug next to it. Dan thought the name was a bit dry, but he took his mother’s word and decided to give it a try despite the lame name.

It was a cozy place, drawings of different coffees written on a white board, followed by even more intricate designs of the pastries they had. Dan read off a few, squinting his eyes as the lack of sleep was making it hard to see correctly. Muffins, bagels, scones, doughnuts. The shop seemed to have it all.

He decided on a cinnamon bagel with maple nut cream cheese, figuring it sounded rather amazing after a long night. His stomach rumbled in agreement and he heard his mum chuckle beside him.

The man at the register was obviously zoning out, barely looking up from his book when the two had entered the building. Upon closer inspection, Dan noticed lines of black streaking up his forearms and that the man was drawing with charcoal in a notebook. The charcoal was the same colour of his hair, dark as night and shining with the artificial light of the cafe.

“Hi, we’d like to order please,” Dan’s mum said quietly. Her tone was gentle but it startled the guy, making him jump and stare at them with eyes that reminded Dan of the sky.

His nametag read Phil in block letters and Dan wondered why nice things always had such dull names. “Sorry about that!” Phil stuttered out. His voice was so loud that it made Dan cringe, but he couldn’t help feeling bad that they had disrupted the quiet of the store. “What can I get for you?”

Dan’s mum ordered for the both of them, unbothered by Phil’s obvious uncomfortable demeanor. It left Dan to wonder how many customers the store typically got at four in the morning.

His gaze trailed over the page of the notebook Phil was drawing in, blinking in surprise at what was revealed to be a self-portrait. It was so realistic that Dan forgot to breathe, the detail down to a T from the cracks in Phil’s lips to the paint splatters up his arms and the small scar scratched into the side of his hand.

He only realized that it was rude to stare when Phil turned his eyes to him and shuffled a bit before shutting the notebook, taking the drawing out of his line of vision. “Sorry,” Dan stammered, ignoring the knowing look his mum cast at him. “You’re an amazing artist.”

The admission made Phil’s cheeks turn pastel pink, the colour of sweet pea flowers. He seemed to be rather embarrassed, as if he wasn’t used to compliments of the such, and fumbled with the coffee cup he was holding before dropping it on the floor, his face now a gorgeous ruby. Phil’s eyes sheepishly met Dan’s as he scrambled for a new cup, squirting a few pumps of chocolate into it (apparently Dan’s mum got a hot chocolate, what a traitor). “Thank you,” he eventually got out. Now that he didn’t seem quite as frazzled that someone had just waltzed through the door at four in the morning, his voice was a lot deeper than before, the sound reverberating deep within Dan’s skull and making his skin shiver.

Dan stuttered his welcome, pressing his lips together in a hard line as to not glare at his mum for the smug expression on her face. Instead, he just followed her to a booth and catapulted himself onto it, the leather of the seat squeaking under his jeans.

“Ask for his number,” his mum whispered as she sat across from him. There was a glint in her eye that seemed a bit too mischievous for Dan’s liking. He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him to it. “He was totally checking you out! I’ll bet you ten quid that he’ll draw you in that sketchbook when we leave.”

Dan hated blushing, and this wasn’t exactly helping in the slightest. The thought of Phil drawing him in his sketchbook made his cheeks heat up in the most uncomfortable of ways. His eyes flicked over to the counter where Phil was finishing up his mum’s drink, stacking that along with two bagels onto a tray. “He probably wouldn’t be interested.”

His mum snorted. Did he mention how much he hated her? “Stop being a wimp, Dan. I raised you better than this!” She teased.

Phil was now beginning to walk over to their table, watching the tray with careful eyes as the mug tittered with each step. At long last, he reached their table, lips turned up slightly in a concentrated smirk. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he said smoothly, setting their food in front of them.

“Actually,” Dan’s mum chimed in quickly, “we do need something else!”

Dan was going to murder her.

Phil brushed his fringe out of his eyes, gazing down at them with a polite smile. “Of course, what can I get for you?”

Dan’s mum kicked him under the table, making him puff his cheeks out, internally screaming before he decided to just go for it and get his mother off his dick. “Your number.”

Phil looked rather taken aback, his blue eyes widening a considerable amount as he stared down at Dan with a level of uncertainty. Did he think Dan was joking? Even the thought that Phil could be thinking that Dan was just playing a joke on him made the brunet physically sick because Phil was probably one of the most beautiful men he’d ever laid eyes on. (Since when did Dan become so cheesy? He felt like he was going to barf from it.)

Eventually, Phil seemed to snap out of his trance, giving a sheepish smile along with a sly glance to Dan’s mum. Without a word, he pulled out a blue biro and grabbed Dan’s hand, scribbling a row of sloppy numbers on his skin. Dan wondered why he didn’t just type it into his phone, but he decided not to mention it and instead revelled in the warmth of Phil’s skin encasing his own; so warm and soft, definitely from moisturizing regularly.

“I’ll text you later,” Dan murmured, watching fondly as Phil shuffled his feet with the red still painted over his cheekbones.

Phil nodded, grinning. “Don’t forget.”

Dan entered the digits into his phone as soon as the man walked away, a numb emotion settling in his stomach that he couldn’t decide if it was from excitement or nervousness. His mum nudged his shoe under the table and he swore he would remember to text Phil in the morning.

He didn’t.

He didn’t remember until three days later, when his fingers were shaking and his eyes were drooping over the keyboard of his laptop, scrolling through various tumblr blogs and trying to decide on a new theme for his own. He didn’t remember until he came across a charcoal drawing of a man with dark fringe and galaxy eyes, a shot of deja vu piercing through him with such force that it almost knocked the laptop straight off of Dan’s lap.

Phil.

He clicked on the link, his eyes scrutinizing each artwork with a whispered, “Holy shit,” before he was scrambling for his phone, his eyes burning with the brightness of the screen. He lowered the brightness immediately to make it easier to view, gnawing his lip as he scrolled and found the correct contact.

Dan

3:38 am

Hey it’s Dan from the coffee shop a few days ago. How are you?

He didn’t think about how cringey it was before he pressed send, setting the phone down on his nightstand before rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. They were burning, which was probably due to the full five hours of sleep he’d gotten in the past two days.

The reply was almost instantaneous, which was also a bit of a shocker until Dan remembered that Phil worked the night shifts at the little coffee shop.

Phil

3:40 am

Hey Dan! I’m pretty good, how about you?

It started a conversation about how Dan couldn’t sleep because when couldn’t he sleep, and Phil texting about how he should try a glass of warm milk. Sadly, Dan’s tried that and he should really know better than to rely so heavily on a drink to make him fall asleep. His mum had suggested he take some melatonin before, but every time he took it, he would sleep for so long that he was unable to function for the next two days, to the point where he was sleeping too much and was even dozing off whilst driving.

Needless to say, he stopped taking the melatonin when he hit their neighbour’s mailbox.

He found himself texting Phil a lot after that night, staying up until the early hours of the morning until the black haired man fell asleep when he got off of work. Apparently he was a twenty-two year old going to the University of York for an art degree. When asked what his specific degree was, Phil replied with a simple, “Animation, but my medium is actually charcoal.”

Dan almost asked why Phil was going for animation if it wasn’t his medium before he realized there probably wasn’t a degree in charcoal.

It was nearly a week after they began talking that Phil asked him back to the coffee shop, and Dan almost gave his mum a heart attack when he woke her up after he got the text, so excited that he basically jumped on top of her. He couldn’t help it, though, especially when a gorgeous man was inviting him to hang out with him at his work.

He talked her into letting him use her car for the night, his mum’s main worry being that he was too tired to drive. But let’s be honest, he was always this tired so he was pretty much used to it by now. She ended up shooing him away with a knowing smile on her face and he almost wanted to take back his excitement. Except he didn’t, because he hasn’t been this excited for something since Toy Story 3 came out.

Phil nearly dropped a stack of cups he was refilling (again) once he saw him before a large smile spread over his face. “Dan!” He greeted, setting the cups on the counter and coming over to where Dan was standing. In less than a second, Phil was hugging him, bringing him close to his chest while Dan breathed him in. He smelt like raspberry shower gel with a faint hint of coffee, and his arms were warm, welcoming, holding onto Dan as if he never wanted to let go.

Dan didn’t want to let go anyways.

They backed away from each other with large grins on their faces and Dan was hit with the sudden urge to lean forward to press their lips together. Obviously, he didn’t, but he could at least dream. “It’s nice to see you,” Phil said quietly, walking Dan over to a booth and watching as he slid into the seat. Dan wanted him to sit next to him, but he didn’t. “Did you want me to make you a coffee?”

Dan nodded, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t be drinking coffee this late at night when he couldn’t sleep in the first place. “Soy chai latte?” He asked hopefully.

Phil smiled at him, his tongue poking out of the corner of his teeth. Dan wondered how a human could be this utterly beautiful. “Coming right up,” he sang, walking away from Dan’s booth to pick up a mug. There was a faint noise of Phil pumping chai flavouring into the cup before the whirring of the steamed milk machine chased away the peacefulness.

Only seconds later, Phil was setting a mug in front of Dan and Dan was sipping at it gratefully. He sighed in contentment, giving Phil a wide grin. “The best chai latte I’ve ever had,” he murmured.

“You flatter me,” Phil chuckled.

They went on like that for another hour, bickering back and forth like they’ve known each other for their entire lives. Dan found that it was easy to get lost in Phil’s eyes, the way he talks about everything with a trill of wonder. He could make even the most boring of topics sound like they were more interesting than aliens or ancient myths alike. His voice, deep and soothing, lulled Dan to a point where he was actually nodding off, eyes slipping closed to the point where he was unsure if he was safe to drive home.

Phil had gotten his sketchbook out a while ago and was scritching away with a charcoal pencil. They were silent, but Dan didn’t mind. He was almost asleep, anyways.

The sound of Phil’s drawing stopped. “Dan?” Phil asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

A low chuckle, one that was amused and filled with warmth. “I get off in a couple of minutes. You look like you’re about to pass out, so would you like to crash at my place? I highly doubt you’re up for driving.”

Dan let out a groan, opening his eyes and wiping at them with the palm of his hand. Even so, Phil was blurry in his vision and he definitely could not drive tonight. “Let me just text my mum really quick,” he mumbled, fumbling with his cell phone until he could properly message his mother.

After Phil clocked out of his shift when a petite girl took his spot, they piled into Phil’s car - a shitty looking minivan - and began on their way to Phil’s flat. Dan nearly passed out again which, okay, the first time wouldn’t be so surprising, but the second time he starts falling asleep? Is he okay?

The ride was silent except for the soft sound of rain as it started to pitter-patter against the glass windows, brushing everything in sight with a beautiful sheen. Through his haze, Dan recalled asking Phil what he was drawing earlier, curiosity taking away the best of him.

Phil was quiet for a minute, before letting out a sigh and a small chuckle. “For my last year in school, I’m taking a figure drawing class that we have to draw fifteen sketches of people every two weeks.” A pause, then, “I’ve decided to do a theme this year, which may sound a bit creepy now that I’m saying it out loud. I’m doing a theme on sleep, where I draw people-,” a wince, “-sleeping or looking tired, I guess.”

Dan snickered. “You’re right, that is creepy.”

Phil smacked his thigh lightly, barely even grazing him. “Shut up, you tweezer.” He sighed once more, Dan opening his eyes to little slits to be able to see the expression on his face. Phil seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he stared straight ahead. “If the head of the art department likes my work enough, I can get the chance to choose my favourites to display in the art gallery in town.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up and he gaped at him. “That’s great, Phil! You’re good enough, you can definitely do it.”

Phil smiled at him and parked the car. Dan didn’t even realize until then that they had pulled up to an apartment complex, most likely the place in which Phil lived. They stumbled into the flat like a couple of drunkards, giggling like lovestruck school girls.

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” Phil murmured, opening the door to his apartment. Dan looked around, smiling at the little succulents lining his window sills and the artwork hanging on the walls, small figurines outlining a bookshelf. The flat was the exact replica of Phil’s personality.

“Like hell you’ll take the couch,” Dan snorted, rolling his eyes. He felt drunk from lack of sleep, his brain finally catching up to his insomnia. “I’m the guest, therefore I’ll take the couch.”

“Not happening,” Phil argued.

They ended up having a glaring contest, squinting their eyes at each other until they burst into a fit of laughter and agreed on just sharing the bed. Dan wouldn’t admit it, but he was rather thankful that he didn’t have to sleep on the couch that night. If he had woken up with a kink in his neck, he would probably be grumpy for the rest of the morning and scare Phil away.

Phil lent Dan a pair of pyjamas, which he changed into thankfully. He all but flung himself onto the king sized bed, groaning blissfully at the fluffiness that greeted him. It was definitely more comfortable than the bed at his house. Perhaps his insomnia was actually just an effect of his shitty bed.

(Well, he could hope at least).

Footsteps on the carpet notified him of Phil’s presence before the bed caved where he sat down on the edge. “Comfortable?” Phil mused. His voice was husky with sleep, and Dan could feel his entire body flush red. He suddenly felt nervous and wondered if sharing the same bed when he was obviously thirsty as fuck was a good idea.

But Dan decided not to mention anything. They were just sharing a bed, it wasn’t as if they were doing anything impure of the sort. “Your bed is wonderful,” Dan moaned, shuffling over to one side of the bed so Phil could have the other. He didn’t look at Phil as he shuffled under the covers, sighing in contentment with the warmth.

Phil turned the light off with that, burying himself under his side of the covers, and Dan was so tired that he could barely register what was going on when Phil began speaking. “My girlfriend broke up with me the day that you came into the coffee shop for the first time,” he whispered.

Dan squinted into the darkness. His head was spinning and he could only make out small shadows on the ceiling. “Girlfriend?” He echoed. He wouldn’t admit it, but the word made jealousy ring through his bones. Of course Phil was straight.

“We dated for two years,” Phil replied. He sounded nonchalant, as if this didn’t happen recently. Dan wondered how he could be so disconnected from the situation if it was obviously upsetting to him, considering he was talking about it. “She broke up with me because she found out I was bisexual.”

Dan drew in a large breath. Bisexual? He shouldn’t be excited by that.

“Which is actually not fair at all, considering she’s bisexual as well. Apparently it’s okay for her to be sexually attracted to a female, but the thought of two guys having sex is disgusting.” Phil scoffed and Dan could hear him shaking his head from the shuffling noise coming from his pillow. “You’d think bisexual people would stick together, but apparently I’m too gay to even have a girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry, Phil,” Dan whispered. He didn’t know what else to say, his brain too tired to even conjure up a considerate sentence. “You deserve a better partner than she was.”

Phil was quiet before another shuffling noise erupted through the room. There was a warm hand touching his cheek followed quickly by a chaste kiss in the same spot where his hand just was. Then it was gone and Dan was longing for much, much more. “Thanks, Dan,” Phil whispered.

Dan couldn’t sleep again that night, the feeling of warm lips too present on his skin to even consider finally succumbing to the darkness.

-

After that, it was easy.

Conversation came easily, letting Phil draw him without another thought came easily, going to the coffee shop at weird hours became easy. Hell, just being with Phil was easy.

He made Dan feel like the night sky, a thousand possibilities within a wide expansion that never died or went to waste. Twinkling with bright stars that posed as opportunities within the shrouded darkness. Phil was the moon, shrouding everything in a soft iridescent light that was pleasant to be around and - should Dan say it? - easy on the eyes. He was a paint-splattered canvas with an array of colours coming together to create meaning.

Dan never slept well, but he found he slept better when there was a Phil by his side.

It was four in the morning and Dan was laying in Phil’s bed. He was crowded to the right side, where he had claimed his home all those weeks ago, the soft glow of the desk lamp turning the room into a light shade of yellow. Phil was scratching charcoal into his sketchbook, looking up every now and then to where Dan was bundled in the soft duvet, only his head peaking out. Every time they made eye contact, Phil would smile brightly and his eyes would turn into a blue so beautiful that the sky couldn’t even compete.

“Whatchu drawing?” Dan whispered despite the fact that he already knew the answer.

Phil just grinned once more, his eyelashes kissing his cheeks in dark crescents. His long fingers were covered in black residue and he held a gummy eraser in one hand, lightly pressing it to the paper multiple times in a row. Instead of answering Dan’s question, he changed the subject. “The art director really likes my sketchbook,” he replied quietly. It was as if there was a certain hush over the room, a thin sheen of glass that they couldn’t break by raising their voices.

“Yeah?”

Phil nodded. He glanced at Dan again through his eyelashes, scribbling another line. “She wants me to display it in the art museum for the art show on Saturday.”

Dan’s eyes widened dramatically. If he was a cartoon character, he guessed that his eyeballs would have fallen right out of their sockets. “You’re shitting me.”

“Does this look like a face full of shit to you?” Phil chuckled, pulling a pout that made Dan resist the urge to coo.

“That’s amazing! I knew you could do it!”

Phil ducked his head and shut his sketchbook. His cheeks were a shade of lovely red when he put it on the nightstand and rolled into bed beside Dan. Like this, Dan could almost imagine they were lovers. But they weren’t, and they stayed on their relative sides of the bed. “Can you come?” Phil squeaked. He sounded nervous. Dan didn’t know why.

“Is that even a question?” Dan teased and Phil snickered as he flipped the light off.

-

There was quiet chatter echoing around the walls when Dan walked into the art gallery on Saturday. He asked his mum if she wanted to go with him, but she turned him down with a wave of her hand and that dumb knowing expression that has been showing up every time he mentions Phil’s name.

He was getting tired of that expression, honestly. As if he didn’t know how thirsty he was for Phil.

And Phil, sadly, had to show up at the gallery before Dan had. Something about hanging up his artwork and meeting with his professor to talk about what he wanted to put as his synopsis. But that was understandable, so Dan wasn’t too upset about it. He just felt a bit out-of-place with his black skinny jeans and black eclipse shirt while everyone else was wearing fancy clothing as if they were going to a nice banquet.

The air smelled slightly of dried paint and the staleness that was usually present in only an old person’s home. The floors were a beautiful marble, swirls of tan and brown making it look like coffee with cream spiraling through the cracks. The walls were a plain white, decorated by beautiful paintings that Dan stared at in awe.

Despite that first day that he had met Phil, Dan had never actually seen any of Phil’s art. He never wanted to impose, assuming that artwork was a sort of personal specialty, one that shouldn’t be seen unless the artist allows it. He was always curious though, curious as to what Phil was drawing, what he found so beautiful that he just had to sketch it on paper. Looking around at all of the other artwork made a surge of proudness surge through Dan with how far Phil had come and how much he had accomplished.

He found Phil only a few minutes later. He was in the corner talking to a petite girl with soft blonde hair and honey brown eyes. Dan frowned, cocking his head to the side as he noticed the distressed expression on Phil’s face and the way the girl’s lips were pressed together in a tight, white line.

He decided that they were having an important conversation and directed himself to where a group of people were gathered around a wall, gossiping amongst themselves at the art that was hung there. Dan stopped and his eyes widened dramatically.

Sleeping Beauty by Philip Lester, the sign read. Underneath was a short synopsis of what the artwork was about and what it signified. Dan skimmed through it slowly, his brain taking in the information as if it was the most important thing in the world at that exact moment.

I have always been interested in sleep, the way the human body is completely oblivious and relaxed for hours on end. It is one of the most beautiful images that is very hard to grasp on paper. I had been playing around with the idea of sleep, but could never fully get the beauty with my pencil - until a boy walked into a cafe where I work at the early hours in the morning. I could immediately tell that he had trouble falling into the depths of sleep, and it was both fascinating and beautiful to me. Over the weeks, we got closer, allowing me to see the peace that came over his face when he finally fell asleep. I never saw anything more beautiful and I just had to draw it. He is the human equivalent of the real Sleeping Beauty.

Dan’s jaw fell slack and he could feel his face heating up as he took in the charcoal drawings in front of him. There were five of them, forming a circle around the description, and he could hear the whispers, feel the stares as people realized that, yes, he was the person in those drawings.

The first one was Dan in the cafe. He was leaning against the window, his eyes halfway shut with a mug in his hands. Phil had captured the way the steam rose out of the mug perfectly, along with the dark circles present under his eyes. It was such a contrast to his appearance now. Although those circles were still under his eyes, they were much lighter, less harsh, and he looked a bit less pale and more full of colour. The Dan in the image seemed almost like a ghost.

The next picture was also in the cafe, except his eyes were closed and his head was cocked almost uncomfortably on the seat behind him. His mouth was slack, slightly open, and it seemed as if he was completely and utterly relaxed. Dan remembered that day from when he had first asked Phil what he was drawing. He was so tired that he nearly fell asleep in the cafe, making Phil take him back to his apartment for the first time.

There was another where Dan was buried underneath Phil’s blanket, his hand resting on his cheek to make it seem as if he was squishing his own face, and then another where Dan was cuddling with a body pillow. Dan wondered when Phil had drawn those because he had absolutely no recollection of when that had ever happened.

Then it hit him - he was actually asleep.

Lastly, Phil had drawn him enveloped in a pair of arms, cuddled up against the other person as the little spoon. Dan’s face flamed as he realized that Phil had drawn them spooning. Either way, Dan was smiling in his sleep, his face soft and content while Phil’s arms wrapped around his waist almost lovingly. If you looked close enough, you could even see a dark head of hair buried into Dan’s neck and a pair of legs entangled with his. It was then that Dan remembered how Phil had a mirror facing his bed, and that he had probably taken a picture of the position before copying it down later, making some minor changes to crop the phone out of the picture.

And maybe it was creepy, but Dan didn’t feel weirded out at all. It was no surprise to him that Phil had drawn him sleeping - he had told him what his project was about - but it was a bit shocking that he had based his entire exhibit solely on Dan and called him ‘Sleeping Beauty’. His heart was pounding in his chest and for once, he wondered if Phil felt the same about him as Dan did.

He blinked himself out of his trance, shivering and licking his lips as he looked back to where Phil was still talking to that girl. He didn’t seem too happy, his eyes darting around at the other artworks, arms black with smeared charcoal and little dots of rainbow paint. Dan took a few steps towards them before stopping when he heard the girl speak.

“I miss you a lot, Phil,” she said softly. Her eyes were pools of golden syrup lined with black eyeliner and thick eyelashes. “I was completely wrong to break up with you for something so stupid. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I can’t believe I let you go so easily. I really want to try again if that’s okay with you.”

Phil’s face hardened and Dan could see the way his jaw tightened from where he was standing. There was a disgusting taste in his mouth and his stomach lurched at the realization that this was the girl who broke up with Phil for being bisexual. He couldn’t help but hope that Phil wouldn’t take her back, not only because he was selfish and wanted Phil all to himself, but also because this girl didn’t deserve Phil. “I really appreciate the apology, Callie,” he murmured quietly. He cleared his throat, shoulders tucked in to make him seem smaller than he was. “But I can’t just go back to how things used to be. “I can’t-,” he paused, clearing his throat once more. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t accept me for who I am.”

“But I do accept you, Phil! Even though you’ve had sex with boys, I can get over that!” She took a deep breath. “I love you, Phil.”

Dan felt like he was going to puke but he was frozen in place, watching as Phil inhaled sharply. His hands were shaking, Dan could see that as Phil brushed his hair out of his face with trembling fingers. He was furious that this girl could just come waltzing into Phil’s happy day and completely ruin it.

“I can’t,” Phil said firmly. “I don’t love you anymore.” And that was that.

Dan seemed to thaw then, relief making his shoulders sag. He resisted the urge to burst into loud laughter and instead walked up to them, forcing a large smile on his face. Phil didn’t notice him when he appeared behind him, but Callie did, and he watched as her eyes narrowed into little slits.

She knows.

“Phil?” Dan asks. Phil jumped slightly and turned, relaxing when he saw it was just Dan. A large grin appeared on his face at the sight of him. Dan could feel every worry melt away with that grin. If Phil could devote an entire art piece based solely on him, then he definitely had nothing to worry about.

“Dan!” Phil exclaimed. He seemed relieved, his body language more open than it was only seconds before. “What do you think of my art?” He was teasing, his voice confident, but Dan could still detect the nervousness behind the act, the question of, ‘Was that okay?’

“I love it,” Dan breathed. His expression mimicked Phil’s own, absolutely beaming at him. He opened his mouth to spout out more praises, but Callie beat him to it, her voice dripping with frost.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?” Phil asked, blinking in surprise.

Callie glared at Dan, fully and out in the open. She didn’t even try to hide it this time. “The reason you don’t want to get back together. It’s because of him.” It wasn’t even a question, more of a statement, a fact. Dan winced, at the same time as Phil flinched like he’d been burned. She went on. “When you first started liking me, you used to draw me all the time, as if I was the most beautiful person on the planet. I bet if you looked at your sketchbook, it’d all be pictures of him, right? Because you think he’s pretty and you like him.” She spat the words, like they were a curse she was spouting out loud.

Dan’s eyes widened and Phil’s face looked like he was going to explode from embarrassment. “That’s not-,” Phil started, but she cut him off.

“Don’t even try lying to me, Phil,” Callie said flatly. “I could see it the moment I saw your work, the way you put so much effort into trying to capture his beauty or whatever the fuck you were trying to do. What I don’t understand is how you can be so completely enamored with an insomniac who has bags under his eyes and looks like a walking zombie going to a freaking funeral.”

Phil looked taken aback, his mouth open to defend Dan. Dan snapped, blood rushing through his ears. “Well I must be doing something right,” he shot back, voice eerily calm. In fact, he wondered how he was even so calm in the first place considering how his thoughts were racing with anger and he could probably smack her if she said one more word about him. “Don’t forget that you’re the one who broke up with him in the first place. Just for being bisexual, even. What an idiotic reason, especially since you fall into the bi category as well. Don’t like the fact that Phil’s had sex with a boy? Well I’ll have you know that he thoroughly enjoyed having his cock in my ass just last night.” All lies, but the look on her face was completely worth it, one of shock and disgust as if she couldn’t decide whether she was going to puke or not.

And Phil just looked like he was about to burst into a fit of giggles. His lips were pressing together and he had to raise a hand to cover his mouth, hiding the large grin behind his fingers. His chest was shaking with the effort to hold it in.

“You- he- what?!” Callie nearly shrieked, eyes glancing back and forth between them with a sense of disbelief.

Phil shrugged, having gotten over his laughing fit. He was feigning nonchalance, giving her an innocent look. “What can I say? He’s got a nice ass.”

Callie let out a disgusted scoff, giving them one more snarl (sounding more like a furious dog than actually being frightening) before stalking off. Only then did Dan and Phil burst into laughter, keeling over with their arms around their stomachs and tears in their eyes.

“You’d think I’d remember that we had sex,” Phil snickered once they gained back their composure. “Apparently it wasn’t that amazing if I don’t even remember it.”

Dan rolled his eyes and jabbed him with his elbow. “You don’t remember because it was such good sex that it completely blew your mind.”

Phil snorted while Dan let out a loud giggle, drawing the attention of the other people in the room. Well, more of the attention, considering they’d already been practically screeching with laughter. “I hate you,” Phil murmured softly.

“Love you too,” Dan replied without thinking. His eyes immediately widened after he realized what his said, cheeks going hot with embarrassment. “Ah- I mean,” he cleared his throat as he made his voice quieter, smiling softly at Phil. “Was what she said true? About you liking me?”

Phil exhaled through his nose. His eyes were full of worry, little pools of blue that Dan could most definitely drown in. They were the same eyes that he had grown accustomed to when they first met over a month ago. The same eyes that Dan lay awake in bed thinking about when he couldn’t sleep at night, and the same eyes that he saw right before he went to sleep ever since he started spending the night at Phil’s flat. Phil was so utterly beautiful and Dan was completely screwed. “I may or may not find you the most gorgeous person in the universe,” Phil admitted softly.

Dan beamed at him, breaking out into such a wide smile that it hurt his cheeks. He could feel his dimple cave in, a small crater in his skin that Phil liked to poke on the occasion. “I’ve liked you ever since I saw you in the cafe that first day.”

Phil chuckled. He lifted his hand and pressed a thumb into Dan’s dimple, eyes shining. “I know,” he said. “You aren’t exactly subtle.”

Then he was leaning forward, and Dan could only freeze when Phil’s hand was tangling in the hairs at the back of his neck, pulling him into him. Their lips touched and Dan physically melted like ice cream on a hot day, turning into a complete mess of goo. It’s like his brain was turned off all at once, the only thing registering was that small, niggling thought of oh my god Phil is kissing me.

When he snapped out of it, he allowed himself to press a bit closer to Phil, relaxing against his chest and enjoying the way he could grip Phil’s hips tightly in his hands. Almost as if he was claiming him, telling the entire world that Phil Lester was his and his only.

When they pulled away, Phil grinned widely and Dan was sure his expression matched. They bumped their noses together, Phil resting his forehead comfortably against his. “My very own Sleeping Beauty,” Phil breathed.

Dan laughed and kissed him once more, entangling their hands together. “Just shut up and kiss me, Prince Charming.”


End file.
